IMAGINE
by 3Musketeers4eva
Summary: I took the knife and held it against my wrist. The cool feeling of the knife made me shudder. I closed my eyes, and sliced open my wrist.


_The rain danced on my window. _The sky was blue-black and rain was pouring out of the storm clouds. From what I could see, the whole town seemed to be sleeping. The water splashed against the side of the gutter and trickled down my window in pirouette, spinning and twirling as the rain droplets fell on my window. I sat in my room with my journal, trying to document my eventful life. _I am afraid of not knowing, being oblivious of what is to come. _ I tried to think about the future, and if I would ever get the depressing memories and thoughts out of my mind. A couple months ago, I had a perfectly normal life.

I sat at the kitchen table with my mom. It had been a long day and my mom decided to cook a meal for me. Maybe she was trying to make up all the times she had been an awful mother. I poked at the food with my fork, and then stared out the window.

"Honey, will you please tell me what's wrong?" my mother asked. Her voice sounded sincere, but I could tell by the look in her eyes that she did not really care.

"Oh it's nothing," I began. "Just thinking about how much I hate my stupid, awful life! My dad left me, you are crazy for making us move here, my sister died, and all my relatives completely shut me out of their lives. Do I need to go further?" I cried. It had been three months since I last cried about anything I cared. Since then, my life has been an emotional rollercoaster, and I have been an emotional wreck. Without saying goodbye, I headed out the door, and ran down the street.

I tripped over the sidewalk and skinned my knee, but I kept running. Eventually, I came to a small clearing with a bench and a tree, and a flower garden. I sat down on the bench and breathed in and out. This was my safe spot. From the bench I could see the trees reflected into the lake, like a mirror. I got up from the bench and went to look at myself in the lake. Mascara was running down my face, my golden blond hair was a mess, and my skin was pale. I laughed a wicked laugh. _ What the hell am I doing to myself? Seriously Hallie, get it together. _

Later that night I headed home in the dark. I could see a small light flickering in the kitchen, and the light in my mom's room was off. _She must be asleep. _ I quietly opened up the back door and tip toed inside. I turned around and gasped. Bottles of alcohol were all over the floor, and the room smelt of cigar smoke. _My mom must be mad. _Quickly I headed up the stairs, trying to be as quiet as I could. "Where were you?" I looked down to find my mother standing at the bottom of the stairs with a bottle of whiskey.

"Just in my happy place mother…" I whispered as soft as I could. I heard her mumble something about an unappreciative child.

"I didn't ask for this either, you know? You think this is all about you. Never bother to think about anyone but yourself, you selfish little brat. You were a mistake, a drunken mistake. Just get out of my life!" my mom was now screaming at me. I ran up the stairs into my room and locked the doors.

_Gray skies in, pink sunsets out, _I repeated to myself. This used to calm me, but now nothing was working. I hurt. My heart hurt. I just wanted to kill myself. Then I turned over my wrist. I had written the word _IMAGINE. _It used to help me always get through the days, and I could always imagine things I never knew would happen, like my dad and sister coming back. I walked into the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. Ugly, I thought. Just then, I turned the water on, and washed the inspirational word off my hand. It left black smears all over my hand but I did not care. My head started reeling; I opened a cabinet and grabbed a bottle of pills. _One to 2 pills a day to relive pain. _Not listening to the bottle, I dumped out five and swallowed them.

A numbness feeling shot through my whole entire body, and I felt strong. I could endure the pain now, I thought. My hand shaking, I grabbed an old box from under my bed. It was my sister's memory box. I opened it up and looked at the pictures of my sister and me together. Tears started forming in my eyes, and everything became a blur. My hand felt something else in the box, something cool and metallic. Of course, it was my sister's knife. I examined the knife, holding it made me feel powerful, and the pain started leaving my body. However, I needed more pain to escape at once. I took the knife and held it against my wrist. The cool feeling of the knife made me shudder. I closed my eyes, and sliced open my wrist.


End file.
